


Mixed and Matched

by PontifexxMaximus (WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey)



Series: Beau Week 2019 [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Disaster Lesbian Beau, F/F, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Modern AU, SOFT Beau, alternate universe - modern setting but with tieflings and the whole shebang still, flirting and also muscles, florist Beau, tattoo artist Jester, tattoo artist/florist au, this is just straight up fluff, y'all heard that right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 07:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18586315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey/pseuds/PontifexxMaximus
Summary: Beau Week 2019, day 3: Modern AU"Beau didn’t have any customers at that moment, so she made sure her register was tightly closed and crouched down next to the blue person. A tiefling, at closer inspection. Huh, she’d never seen a blue one of those. Clad in a soft pink dress, big and frilly, her horns decorated with ribbons. It would be sort of cute, if she wasn’t faceplanted into the asphalt."orThe classic tattoo artist/flower shop AU; Beau owns a flowershop and looks intimidating, while Jester is the bubbly, pink tattoo-artist. Their booths at the Zadash festival are next to each other, and everyone keeps thinking Jester sells the flowers and Beauregard is the tattoo artist.





	Mixed and Matched

The Zadash festival was always one of Beau’s favourite events of the year. Not only did she get to sell, frankly, a shit-load of flowers, but it was just generally _fun_. Maybe she’d never admit that to her friends – Fjord would surely laugh at her, talking about her ‘crackling tough exterior’ or some other shit.

Nevertheless, the drunk festival people of Zadash and the families with kids had one thing in common: they all went absolutely wild for a nice-looking flower crown.

Her and Cad had been working non-stop the previous few days to plan, order flowers and make enough flower crowns and bouquets to last the entire day. Caduceus had some thing with his family, he had that whole ‘Wildmother’ thing, which was actually pretty cool, and supposedly that specific Friday was holy. Beau didn’t really mind, she could probably tend to the shop alone, and he’d promised to be the one to get up at 4 o’clock on Saturday to replenish their stocks. In the end, a pretty good trade-off. And either way, Caleb had promised to come by, and she knew she could always rope either him or Nott into helping.

 

Yes, everything was planned and in place. She’d been at her booth 6 o’clock sharp with the flowers, ready to set everything up. Her usual neighbors at the festival were Caleb’s bookstore, but he’d had to sit out on the festival this year, seeing as he was currently in the middle of earning his second doctorate, and so, the store had to take a backseat. Her other neighbor was usually that funny meadery, that only really showed up at the festival, but she barely knew them. She thought that perhaps one of them was named Calianna, but Beau was usually busy at the festival, and the meadery was even busier, so they’d never really gotten a chance to talk.

Around 7 o’clock she saw Calianna arriving with another woman in tow, that she hadn’t seen before. Beau send her a nod, and a polite “Hey, nice to see you again,” and they exchanged pleasantries while setting up their booths.

 

The festival was supposed to start at 8 o’clock. By then, her neighboring table was still empty. She was pretty sure _someone_ was supposed to be there, because there _was_ a small table with a chair, and then another weird chair in the back. A surgical chair or something? Surely, the dentist didn’t have a booth at the festival. That would be… Really weird practice. Not that Beau was one to judge on how to keep a store, but she did appreciate everything being up to protocol. She wasn’t exactly the least chaotic person, but when it came to book-keeping, orders, the likes, she made damn sure everything was up to scratch.

 

A few customers rolled by in the early mornings. People buying flowers for their partners. A single family, with a small child who literally just copied whatever her parents said. One person that Beau suspected was on the way to a graveyard – when you had owned a flower shop for enough years, it became easy to spot the grieving people. Beau tried to pack some of her brashness in niceties for that one, leaving out her usual jokes.

 

By 8:30, Beau was getting worried. Having a stall at the festival wasn’t exactly cheap, was her neighbor really just not gonna show up-

As she finished the thought she saw a chaotic blur of blue running straight into her neighboring table, with a loud “OUCH”, and a familiar crunch. Beau didn’t have any customers at that moment, so she made sure her register was tightly closed and crouched down next to the blue person. A tiefling, at closer inspection. Huh, she’d never seen a blue one of those. Clad in a soft pink dress, big and frilly, her horns decorated with ribbons. It would be sort of cute, if she wasn’t faceplanted into the asphalt.

“Um. Hey. Are you okay? I heard a crunch,” she gave the woman another once-over, but didn’t see much by the fact that she was, well, still face-planted in the asphalt.

The woman finally sat up on the ground, facing Beau, and she’d never tell Fjord, but she was blown away. The sweetest face was staring back at her; big purple eyes, round cheeks with _a lot_ of blush, lips painted black. She had a funny, scrunched up expression on her face, like the situation was more funny than awkward. And her giggle, the most angelic sound. “Ouch, mother _fucker_ ,” the angel spoke, when her giggle had scrunched up her bloody nose. “Hi! I’m Jester,” her voice was sweet as honey, an accent Beau couldn’t place. She offered a hand to Beau, and who was Beau to deny the hand of a beautiful lady?

“Beau,” she answered, as she grabbed the stranger’s hand and dragged her to her feet.

“Bo? That’s cute. A _leettle_ weird,” the stranger grinned.

Beau hated herself for it, but she blushed, as if she were some love-struck teenager. “Uh, well, Beauregard to be precise, but ya’ know, uh…” her hand went up to scratch at her undercut, internally cursing herself for having absolutely _no game_ , “Beau is fine”.

“Oh, well, I like it!”, the tiefling, Jester answered enthusiastically. She glanced behind Beau. “I think you have a customer. Or well, customer _s_ ,” she added teasingly, drawing Beau’s attention to the small line forming at her booth. She was about to turn around, when a man broke from the queue and approached them.

“Hi, sorry, you look really beat up, but can we buy some flowers?”

Beau scrunched her nose. Beat up? It had been at least a week since her last- Oh. He wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to Jester.

“Um, well, you see, I do not sell flowers, so unless you want a _tattoo_ of a flower,” Jester revealed a smile, and Beau noticed her sharp teeth, “I think you need to speak with the cute bodybuilder over here.” Beau’s faced reddened even deeper, if that was even possible, as this strange woman _winked_ at her.

Customers, right.

“Yea, sure, that’s me, I’ll take care of that,” she stepped behind her table once more, sending Jester one last look over her shoulder.

 

While Beau busied herself with customers (damn it, of all the times to shop flowers, they had to do it now?), a booth was slowly but surely put together next to her. Jester had been joined by another tiefling, a lilac one, and now that Jester had mentioned tattoos, Beau noticed how both of them were _covered_ in them. She suspected there was some friendship-tattoo-thing going on, because in much the same way that the lilac tiefling had a peacock grazing his neck and covering most of his arm, Jester had an intricate floral design, in the exact same colors, and in the same placement. She had lots of other tattoos, half of them looking like something that could be from a comic strip. Beau was pretty sure she spotted one with _googly eyes_ and fangs. No, not fangs, she realized. Tusks. Wow, Fjord would simultaneously hate and love that one.

 

When she’d taken care of the line of customers, Jester’s booth was beginning to make more sense. They were hanging up pictures of designs, and a big “walk-in” sign with general rates written on it. She did notice how Jester winced every time she laughed, though, which was often.

She looked around once more, making completely sure that there wasn’t gonna be any customers immediately, dug out her first aid kit and turned back to Jester, clearing her throat.

“Beau! So nice to see you again,” Beau could swear she had stars in her eyes.

“Yea, I couldn’t help but notice your nose. Blood and all, y’know, so uh, if you sit down, I can fix that right up for you,” she shrugged her shoulders, feeling slightly stupid. They barely knew each other! Then again, that nose could be broken, and an untreated broken nose was a right bitch.

“Oh, that is so _nice_ of you, sure,” Jester replied, taking a seat at the regular chair at their booth.

Beau brought over her own chair, getting out the necessary tools and took a look at Jester’s nose.

“Well, good news first, it is not broken. But, you did split the skin, so scarring is a possibility,” she began cleaning the cut with surgical wipes, focused on what she knew: first aid, and how to properly treat a new cut (both the fighting induced ones and the flower induced ones).

“Oh, who cares, scars are – ouch – badass,” she could hear the smile in Jester’s voice, “Why does – ouch – why does a florist know so much – ouch – about broken noses and cuts?”

Beau grinned a bit. “Florist by day, bonafide protector of women’s or anyone’s honor at night,” she looked away from Jester’s nose to send her a wink, “And bar fights. Mostly bar fights, I’m kind of bad at keeping my mouth shut, bad attitude and all that shit.”

Jester gasped, and for a second Beau thought she might have done something wrong.

“Oh my gosh, me too! Well, I don’t have a bad attitude, but I _do_ enjoy a good fight.”

Beau stepped back, giving Jester a once-over. This woman was… Full of contradictions. Bright, girly clothing, bright makeup and a wide smile. Filled with tattoos, but most of them looked soft or comedic. This woman? Fighting? Then she noticed the muscles – and Jester had called _her_ a bodybuilder. Jester was… fucking built, to put it eloquently. Huge biceps. She could probably snap Beau in half, and Beau couldn’t help but think, _hot_. Apparently Stupid Lesbian Mode had been turned on for the day, and there was no way to shut it off.

“I know I look, like, really cute, but I’m _super_ strong,” Jester added, when Beau didn’t give a response.

“Yea, I can uh,” she gulped, “I can see that.”

Luckily, she was saved before she had to string together any more words. More fucking customers.

 

A man had walked up to them, wallet in hand, his gaze flicking between them before settling on Beau.

“Hi, I was wondering if you had time for a walk-in in half an hour?”

Beau looked confused at the man. “I don’t – walk-in? You can just place an order my dude, and I’ll make the bouquet right away.”

If possible, the man looked even more confused than Beau. “Uhh, I’m not sure I want a bouquet? I was thinking maybe a sick skull piece or something…”

Beau’s confusion grew even stronger. Sure, a skull-themed bouquet wasn’t the weirdest thing that had been ordered at her shop, but it was not even near October. Once again, she was saved by Jester.

“Um, I think you need me, actually, since technically, I’m the tattoo artist, technically,” Jester grinned at the man, “Though Beau sells really pretty flowers, if you need some of that as well!”

 

As Beau realized her own (and the customers mistake), she stepped back to her own booth letting Jester work. She discreetly gave herself a once-over. She supposed she did have a rather ‘badass’ look, what with the undercut and the piercings and her general way of dressing. Fjord always said she looked like someone who should _not_ be messed with. Which was good, because she was _not_ to be messed with.

An honest mistake, really. Sort of. Jester had all the tattoos, but she did have that floral piece, and she supposed Jester looked way softer, way more like a flowers type of woman than Beau. Beau on the other hand? Add a few tattoos and she might fit right in at a tattoo shop.

Handling her own customers, Beau couldn’t help but sneak glances at her neighbors (well, one in particular). Jester was loud (so was Beau normally, to be fair), over the top, extremely positive and giggling all of the time. And Beau couldn’t help thinking that that was… Rather cute. There was just something immediately hypnotizing about this loud, bubbly woman. Like Beau, she wasn’t afraid to occupy space and claim it, but she did it in such a positive way that Beau could hardly imagine anyone had ever been mad at _Jester_ for being loud. She was absolutely endearing, and she kept sending Beau teasing looks, flashing her fangs, sticking out her tongue at her, mimicking fist fighting.

 

As usual with the first day of the festival, it was a very long day. It was only made longer by the many customers who kept confusing Beau’s and Jester’s professions. Beau even ‘accidentally’ snapped at some of them, because really, she didn’t have a single tattoo, and though it was cute, the day was way too busy for such shenanigans.

 

When it became time to close up the booth, Beau was nearly sold out, and she chatted eagerly with Jester until her friend, Molly was his name?, called her over to help packing up their equipment and carrying it to their car. Beau busied herself with unimportant tasks such as checking the trash bin (she’d already emptied it half an hour ago), making sure the remaining flowers had water (they did) and re-counting the money in her register to make sure, that she didn’t get any numbers wrong (she didn’t. She never got the numbers wrong). The truth of it all was that she didn’t want to leave. Maybe she could see Jester just one more time?

She was re-counting the money for the second time, when a blue shape jumped into her field of vision with a bright “HI!”, causing her to almost drop the coins she was holding (thank fuck for her quick reflexes).

“Holy shit Jester!”, she took a deep breath, putting her hand on her heart trying to will it into relaxing “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”.

Jester just gave her a cheeky smile in return, and Beau could feel her cheeks burning with a blush.

“Um, I was wondering if I could buy that last bouquet, if you haven’t counted the register yet.”

Beau’s heart dropped. Oh. Jester probably had a partner already, someone to go home to and give flowers to. Well, she had still been nice all day, and a new festival buddy couldn’t hurt, she supposed, even if she did lose her breath a little every time she looked at Jester.

“Sure, yea, you can have them, my friend is bringing a new batch tomorrow anyway,” Beau awkwardly scratched at the back of her undercut, finding it hard to meet Jester’s eyes.

“Absolutely not, I _insist_ on paying,” Jester replied, same dashing smile still crossing her lips. Beau knew this game, and she knew how quickly it got awkward if she didn’t just accept it, so she accepted the money for the flowers, wrapped the bouquet in paper, and handed it to Jester. She began closing up the register and picking up the box that she needed to get to her car.

“Well, it’s been fun meeting you,” Beau winced at her own words. Fjord was right, she was No-Game Beau. “I need to, uh, get these to my car.”

Jester met her gaze, her smile, which had been almost comically big all day, having simmered down to a more quiet, intimate one. “Oh, of course, Beau. I’ll follow you to your car!”.

Beau frowned slightly, turning away from Jester. She was being very friendly for a person with a partner. Nevertheless, she accepted, continuing their (mostly Jester’s) discussion about why unicorns were obviously the superior fantasy animals.

 

“So, this is me- “

“-areyougonnabeheretomorrow?”

Beau closed the trunk on her car, turning back to Jester. “I’m sorry Jester, but sometimes you speak really fucking fast.”

She was surprised at the tiefling’s demeanor. She’d been so happy and confident all day, it was weird to see the woman looking down at the ground, one hand worrying a loose thread from one of her many skirts.

“Uhm, well, I was just wondering if you’d be here tomorrow, because you know, it’s still the festival and everything,” Jester mumbled, though now in a pace that Beau could at least understand. It didn’t confuse her any less, though.

“Yea, I mean, I own the shop, so I kind of have to. Well, I own it with my friend Caduceus, he’s gonna be here tomorrow as well. Saturdays at the festival are always much busier…” Beau could feel herself trail off topic. She ordered the frown in her brows to smooth down, the blush in her cheeks to subside. _Don’t crush on a taken woman_ again _Beau, you’re better than this_. “You’d like him, he is also very… positive,” Beau was going to give Jester a reassuring smile, but she barely got halfway through the motions of a smile, before the bouquet Jester was holding was thrust into her hands (and her face), shortly obscuring her eyesight, but the deep, purple blush of Jester’s cheeks was un-missable. Jester undoubtedly looked nervous now, both hands fiddling with her skirts, eyes locked with Beau’s, though she looked like she’d rather the ground swallowed her up.

“The flowers are for you, actually! I know you own the shop, but, you know, my choices were flowers, mead or offering to give you a tattoo, and I don’t personally like alcohol, and it didn’t seem very romantic to offer you a tattoo, so, I-, I don’t know,” Jester’s words were once again arriving quickly, but Beau managed to make out the gist.

“Romantic? I don’t understand,” she felt like she _should_ understand, like she was one of those customers today who thought she was a tattoo-artist, her brain overtaken by being a Gay Mess, drowning out rational thought. Why would Jester need to be romantic?

Oh.

Surely, she didn’t mean-

“Do you want to maybe go get something to eat? I think the food stalls are still open, technically, and I saw that you didn’t really eat any dinner today,” by this time Beau thought Jester might as well just be purple instead of blue, because there was barely any blue left.

A smile curled her lips. So she _hadn’t_ read all the signs during the day wrong. She _wasn’t_ No-Game Beau.

“Jester, I would love to go on a date with you,” she responded softly, trying to exude fake confidence. She really, really hoped that was what Jester had meant, or she might have to ask Cad for the biggest favor of tending the booth for the rest of the weekend.

The disarming smile Jester send her, told her that she had definitely asked her on a date. Once again, she felt breathless, as Jester took her hand and started leading her to “the BEST falafel in town. Technically the best falafel in the _world_ , technically”. She had a feeling that as long as she got to see that smile on Jester’s face, being able to breathe didn’t matter much anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Allllright friends, that was day 3! Something completely different from day 1 and 2. I didn't include the Dairon prompt, as I am at episode 46, so I haven't seen much of them yet.
> 
> This feels a bit more stale than the other two days, but I thought I might as well throw it out now that it is written!
> 
> Once again, English isn't my first language. Kudos and comments are much appreciated! Have a lovely day <3


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